


the thread of luck and destiny

by esnoyuuutsu



Category: A3! (Video Game), ヒプノシスマイク | Hypnosis Mic (Albums)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, and hints of azuma's bro being presumably dead and me implying hisochi are kinda also siblings, arisugawa bros au, but again not that relevant, ramugendice and winter all have two hands but only if you squint, so so many dice background headcanons including but not limited to otomesan is his mom, there's a smattering of a3 characters who don't do anything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 16:34:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20624138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esnoyuuutsu/pseuds/esnoyuuutsu
Summary: Homare's younger brother was a little prince.Dice's older brother was a genius.Families are always complicated, but somehow the Arisugawas just make things worse for themselves.// crossover au where arisugawa homare and arisugawa dice are siblings ! yeah !





	1. six-sided die, two sides of the same coin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi. i started this fic in 2018, shortly before dice's birthday. it's been more than a year. i'm so sorry.
> 
> disclaimer: i haven't really listened to/looked at hypmic stuff outside of the songs so basically all this is what i've gathered from the music and looking at my tl i'm sorry if it's inaccurate i'm doing my best for what was originally just a "haha same name" joke

“Alright, Ramuda. Whatever you dragged me here for better be good this time.”

Taking a break from rifling through the office’s pantry cabinets for food, Arisugawa Dice shot a look across the room at the aforementioned pink gremlin. “None of that cheating and then not-really-joking-about-selling-off-my-organs crap.”

Gathering up an armful of snacks piled on the counter, his scowl opened into a sheepish pointy-toothed grin. “...you don’t mind if I take these though, right? I’m starving over here.”

“Okay, first of all,” Ramuda said with a smack as he pulled his third lollipop of the afternoon out of his mouth and pointed it at Dice. “Gentarou and I didn’t cheat. You were just unlucky.”

Nearby, the writer laughed softly into his tea. Dice frowned.

“And second, all of those are for you. I kinda figured you’d be dying when you collapsed in the doorway.” Ramuda flashed a sugary smile. “Aren’t I so nice?”

Tearing open one of the bags with his teeth, Dice made a muffled noise of agreement.

“So,” he said crunchily, through some hasty chips. “Why’re we here?”

Ramuda’s face pulled into a pout. “Mm...can’t say yet. I’m still waiting for someone.”

“What? Who?” Dice tilted his head to slide the remainder of the chips directly into his mouth. “I’m here. Gentarou’s here. Who else are you waiting for, right?”

He turned to Gentarou, who simply raised his shoulders slightly with a smile. Dice took it as assent and made a gesture as if his point was proven.

Ramuda made to reply, when there was a knock at the door.

“Ah! Right on time, that must be him. I’ll be back in a sec.” With a little wave, he skipped off to let in their mystery guest. “Comi~ng!”

Plastic crinkled as Dice opened another bag. “Got any idea what’s going on?”

Gentarou began to pour syrup into his tea. Stirring languidly, he hummed, “I wouldn’t know. All Ramuda told me is that I might find some inspiration, seeing as I’m between novels at the moment.” He paused, the tea spiralling. “And it seems that for whatever he has planned, he would prefer for Fling Posse to be complete. But we’ll see, won’t we?”

As if on cue, Ramuda’s voice lilted back into the room. “...so he’s over here! Azu-neesan, Hisoka, you two can sit with the guy on the couch who looks like he stepped out of a scroll.”

“Ramuda.” There was a sharp exhale and a clink from Gentarou’s spoon hitting the saucer a little too hard.

Fluttering his eyelashes, Ramuda drawled, “Am I wrong, though?”

Dice averted his eyes just in case things were about to get messy (again), almost bumping into someone as he shoved more snacks in his mouth.

“Oh, shit, sorry—”

The apology died on his lips as his gaze travelled upwards.

Mustard yellow wrapped around a slender frame (did he always like that colour so much? it’s even in his socks), red hair curling softly (more like unevenly. Dice is sure that one single goddamn strand has grown to a foot long) around questioning gentle eyes (stop.  _ stop looking at me like that. _ ), uncomfortably familiar, peering down at him, was—

Arisugawa Homare.

“Daisu.”

With a smile, bright and uneasy.

Ah, yes. Arisugawa Homare: renowned poet, self-proclaimed genius, insufferable sheltered rich kid probably even at—was it twenty-eight by now?—and Dice’s older brother.

“Ani...” Dice choked down the rest of his chips and the word on the tip of his tongue, crushing the wrapper so forcefully his nails dug into his palm. “No. I’m not doing this. Not today, not ever.”

Homare sighed, his eyebrows drawing together. “Daisu, please.”

“Uh oh.” With light steps, Ramuda leapt to Dice’s arm. “Okay, Dice, just hang on—”

“Like hell! I’m out of here. Maybe I can go find Riou-san for a decent goddamn meal for once, or some train tracks to lay my head on! Whichever fucking comes first.” Dice tried shaking Ramuda off, doing his best not to hit the man in the face—bitter as he was, angering the leader of his division was not on his to-do list.

Ramuda did not relent. “Come on. He reached out to me, and don’t you think you should at least hear out your nii~chan?”

“Don’t call him that.” Dice’s eyes narrowed. “What made you think this was okay?”

A long drawn-out gasp, blue eyes wide and lips pouted.

“Arisugawa Dice, do I seem like the kind of guy who can’t appreciate a lonely man tearfully reuniting with his long lost angry little brother?”

With the resulting silence, Ramuda frowned. “...okay, you got me, but! My point still stands.”

“What kinda coincidence does it take for your fancy-pants big bro to be friends with someone who keeps up with me and would show him exactly one of the pictures with you in it, huh?”

“You’re on like everywhere on the internet, so not much—”

Dice felt small hands squeeze his arm. “Can’t it be your luck thing? You know, if the stars can align and Lady Luck can shine upon you...or, whatever, to keep you from starving to death on a street corner somewhere, then can’t the same happen to bring you and your bro together again?”

Softly, from across the room, was a laugh—remarkably like Gentarou when he was definitely lying, and yet, not.

“I’m sure Homare would call that destiny.” “They really are siblings…” “Really? How...adorable.”

At the mention of his name, Homare began to shush the sofa occupants; Gentarou having poured out tea for their guests, one half-asleep, the other passing out cookies in an expensive-looking tin and, Dice assumed, the owner of the laugh at whom he needed to direct his irritation.

(Gentarou calling him adorable would have to be dealt with some other time.)

He jerked his head in their direction. “What’s with them, then.”

Muffled, a yawn. “Alice needed moral support so we’re here.”

A delicate hand went up to cover another laugh. “To think that both Arisugawas would believe in the power of the universe guiding them. Does it run in the family?”

“Ehe~n. Hear that, Dice?” Ramuda looked up triumphantly, though he hadn’t done anything. “You listen to the universe way more than I do, so.”

Dice waved an angry finger a few inches from Ramuda’s nose. “Look, if the universe is plotting against me, then I have some really shit luck after all.”

“But…” He sighed. “I know you never listen to anything anyone tells you, ever, so fine. You win. I’ll sit down and talk to my brother like the civilised adults that’re probably in this room somewhere.” Looking away, he muttered, “I guess I owe you that much.”

“Actually, you owe me way more.” Ramuda beamed, burying his face in Dice’s sleeve before adding, “...but I’ll take it!”

The Arisugawas looked up at the same time, Homare trying to catch Dice’s eye as Ramuda led them to the coffee table—Dice collapsing into a chair, one leg slung over the armrest, focusing on a blank spot of wall behind Homare, who took a seat across the table, gracefully crossing his legs and making sure not to sit on his coat.

Silence.

“I believe there’s still some tea left…?” “...if you don’t mind.”

Gentarou stood up to fetch more cups, and Ramuda, perched on one end of the sofa, began twittering excitedly at his mistaken(?) next oneechan to fill the empty air as he filled his baby hands with cookies.

“So, Daisu,” said Homare, smiling once more, voice cheerfully strained. “How have you been?”

A shrug. “‘Kay.”

Clearly disappointed, Homare pressed on. “It’s been a very long time, you’ve grown into a fine young man.”

Dice made a face.

“Ah!” One of his brother’s friends (Azu? Dice hadn’t quite caught his name aside from the occasional  _ Azu~nee~~san♪ _ so that was no help.) turned to him, long lashes over suspiciously laughing eyes and one hand in Ramuda’s hair. “If you don’t mind me asking, Dice, how old are you?”

“I’m, uh, twenty-one this year.”

His hands flitted together—with a small pout from Ramuda—as he directed his attention to the elder Arisugawa. “See, Homare, your brother is old enough! We should’ve brought him and his friends drinking with the rest of Winter. That always works.”

“Azuma-san, please.”  _ Ah. _

Sensing the need for an explanation, Homare cleared his throat. “Winter is a theatre troupe, of which Azuma-san, Hisoka-kun, and I are a part.” Raising an eyebrow, he continued, “And while it is true that a good deal of our conflicts are solved with alcohol, I would like to think that more are through communication and understanding. Is that not right, hm?”

“Better than you crying on everyone after two drinks, I guess,” said Hisoka, shutting his one eye again and leaning against Azuma, who shrugged—“I’m just saying,”— and went back to fawning over Ramuda.

(Dice gave him another look, to which Ramuda responded by stuffing more cookies in his cheeks.)

Tossing a cookie in his own mouth, the picture of nonchalance—or so he thought, as the words _ god damn of course these are the most delicious expensive-ass cookies i’ve ever tasted _ were written all over his face—Dice leaned back. “Theatre, huh. Sounds like something you’d be into.”

“Hm? I must have been mistaken, then.” Leisurely as ever, Gentarou laid out a couple of teacups and a new pitcher of syrup to replace the one Azuma and Hisoka had already emptied. “Are you not Arisugawa Homare, the poet?”

“No.” Dice sat up as if he’d been electrocuted. “No, he isn’t. He really isn’t.”

“Ah, a shame. I have all his collections.”

“You  _ do _ ?”

Both Arisugawa voices raised in surprise, Homare pleasantly so, while Dice began to truly wonder at Gentarou’s taste for the first time since they’d met.

“No, that was a lie.” Passing along the teacups, Gentarou flashed a smile. “Jokes aside however, I am quite fond of your writing, Homare-san. If it wouldn’t be too much to trouble you with a verse…?”

Homare’s face lit up accordingly. “Well, yes, yes, I am indeed that Arisugawa Homare! And I am absolutely delighted that one of my little brother’s friends is a fan, and a fellow author no less. In fact, I do have something floating in mind in celebration of seeing Daisu once again, so may I?”

“Of course.” “Why would we  _ e~ver  _ stop you?”

_ Alright, guys. Just punch me next time. _

To distract himself as his brother began to rattle off some poem littered with foreign words he couldn’t even begin to decipher, Dice shoveled more of the nice fancy cookies in his mouth and some in his pockets for later. Ramuda grinned at his visible distress. “Man, I can’t even imagine what it’d be like living with a bro like him.”

Pausing his cookie hoarding, Dice thought for a second. “Start with that,” — here Dice waved a hand in Homare’s direction — “but around your height, and with giant-ass glasses. Oh, and in a sailor uniform.” The last sentence came out with a laugh and crumbs he couldn’t hold back.

“Really?”

“Would I make that up?”

“So...did you go to the same school?” Ramuda’s smile turned to that of a snake about to strike, and in a stage whisper, asked, “Are there pictures of you in a cute sailor uniform? Tell me there was a ribbon.”

“...forget I ever said anything about it.”

He clasped his hands together, giggling. “Never, ever.”

Dice shook his head, laughing in spite of himself. As he did, Homare finished his mini-recital, pride and a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes as he turned to his brother, and it was blinding.

_ “Aniki, your poems never make any sense.” _

_ Homare smiles, adjusting his glasses. “Perhaps you’ll have a greater appreciation when you’re older, Daisu.” _

_ The two of them sit in Dice’s room, long ago, nearly in another life. Dice has just gotten out of high school, and Homare is taking a break from writing to spend time with him before he presumably goes off to college. _

_ There’s a bit more of an age difference between them than most siblings, and their interests rarely crossed over the years—Dice already started pulling away as they grew up, and Homare knows that if he doesn’t take the time now, there would soon be a door closing on his face. _

_ “Come on, aniki, I’m not a kid anymore. You don't have to keep an eye on me cause Mom asked you to." _

_ "Now, now," says Homare, shaking his head. "Is it so unbelievable that I would wish to spend time with my little brother without it being at our mother's bidding?"  _

_ Dice raises his eyebrows, wordlessly shuffling a deck of cards. He doesn’t answer, instead dealing the cards out between them. Homare, in a rare moment of quick comprehension, picks his hand up. His eyes shine as they go over the cards despite the game not starting yet, and by the evening, Dice's won all of Homare's dessert for the week. _

_ Homare left his feelings like an open book, but to him, Dice’s thoughts were a mystery. _

_ "I can't take being in this fucking house any more!" _

_ "Daisu." Their mother's voice, calm and low. "Remember that you have responsibilities to carry." _

_ "No! I'm not your perfect child you can parade around the country. You've never cared about what I want." Dice picks up a bag and his jacket. _

_ Homare, gears turning slowly in his mind, hesitantly speaks up. "Daisu? It's late. Please just stay here and we can all work something out." His eyes flick to their mother's face, impassive as a wall. _

_ "I'm not letting you talk me out of it this time, aniki." _

_ This time? How many times had they been in this situation? _

_ "Daisu, I just...don't understand why you—" _

_ "Of course you don't!" Dice snaps. "Both of you just…" _

_ He doesn't finish the sentence, storming out the door instead. _

_ The butler looks around the room, an eyebrow inching up the only hint of alarm showing on his face. “Shall we have the young master brought home, madame?” _

_ “No.” _

_ Homare turns, still processing, yet nothing clicking. “Mother?” _

_ “If he believes that he can make his own decisions, then Daisu can do as he pleases.” She pauses, a thoughtful breath and closed violet eyes. “It won’t be long until he comes home.” _

_ “But he’s only—” _

_ She turns to look at him, and out of habit and deference his gaze shifts slightly away. “Listen to me, Homare. Your brother is only a child, but I would never let either of you end up where I could not keep a close eye. There is no need for you to worry.” _

_ He nods, and it doesn’t quite sink in what’s happened. _

_ Not that night, or the next. _

_ Even as he looks through Dice’s room, tidied up in his absence, as if it had never been lived in. _

_ Not until he writes out a wish to hang up under the sparkle of the night sky does Homare even think that there’s a chance they might not meet again. _

Abruptly, Dice sat up, wiping the crumbs and smile from his face. “Alright, that’s enough dicking around. What do you want.”

“Well, I—”

Before Homare could finish speaking, Dice went on. “Cause if mom needed someone to drag me home, first of all you’re late, and second I’d rather go back to sleeping in back-alley dumpsters than go back there.”

Any further thought Homare had was wiped from his brain. “Daisu, you’ve been sleeping in alleys?”

“He’s only joking,” said Gentarou quickly over his tea. “Ramuda, you’re letting him stay over at your house, right?”

“On the floor!” Ramuda chirped, changing his tone a little as the two authors looked over at him. “...there’s like a futon, don’t worry.”

“Well, that’s...good, I suppose.” Brows drawn together in thought, Homare continued. “In any case, I’m not here to bring you home. Our mother doesn’t even know I’m here.”

“I doubt that.”

“Daisu, I just…” Homare put a hand over his mouth, and Dice could  _ see _ the sentences piecing themselves together in his brother’s mind. “I haven’t seen you in a few years now, I had no idea where you were, how you were doing? For goodness’ sake, you just said you were sleeping in the garbage!”

“You’re my family, my only sibling. How could I not rush over here the second I found out you were alive and well?” He blinked, once, twice, and Azuma reached over to squeeze his arm. “And I...I simply wish to understand what is it you so loathed to the point of running away? We had a comfortable home, a loving family…”

“Of  _ course _ you don’t get it. Even until now.” Dice ran a hand through his hair, sighing loudly. “You’re the perfect one. The angel of the local choir, a real genius, award-winning poet at age fifteen. Exactly the kind of kid you’d expect from our family, and what did that make me?”

“The one who can’t be trusted, so  _ our dear mother _ had to plan out everything in my life for me instead, without giving a single fuck about what I wanted to do. And any mistake I made reflected badly on our entire family—even if you, my own brother, couldn’t tell there was anything going wrong around you until everything went to shit because somehow, being raised by a woman who couldn’t tell her grandson from a pocket watch didn’t give you any empathy!”

The room went still.

“Does that help, Homare?” said Dice, enunciating every word, watching as his brother flinched.

Homare nodded, with the last shred of his composure. “I’m sorry that I never realised, and you had to spell it out for me like this, Daisu.”

“I know at least when I’m not welcome, so I’ll try not to take any more of your time. Azuma-san, Hisoka-kun?”

With a last ruffle of Ramuda’s hair, Azuma stirred Hisoka from his nap on the sofa, thanking Gentarou for the tea and leaving the rest of the sweets on the table.

The elder members of Fling Posse quietly—as quietly as Ramuda could be, mouthing “call me” at Azuma complete with a little hand gesture—helping the two of them out as the Arisugawas were left in a deafening silence.

“...if I may have only one more question?”

Dice looked at his brother, Homare’s spindly frame hanging like a puppet with cut strings. He paused. “Fine, I’ll bite. What is it.”

“Are you…” Homare turned to Gentarou and Ramuda, then back to Dice, his eyes seemingly scanning the floor as he put his thoughts together. “...are you happy now, then? Where you are now, with...the family that you’ve chosen?”

The Arisugawas stared at each other, violet meeting red.

“I guess? I…” From behind Homare, Dice could see Gentarou and Ramuda glancing over, trying very hard to look like they weren’t eavesdropping—Gentarou tilting his head in their direction, gaze far off, Ramuda with one hand over his mouth open in a perfect little O—and he smiled, just the slightest, in spite of himself. “I am. This is where I have to be.”

(Ramuda and Gentarou giggling together would also have to be dealt with at some point.)

Homare’s expression softened. “Then that’s all I could possibly ask for.”

With a last gentle nod, Homare turned to join his friends, leaving Dice by himself, if only for a second.

“...hey.”

Walking up, seeming for all the world like a lost child tugging at his sleeves, was Hisoka.

“...hi.” Dice scratched his head. “Sorry you had to see all that. Nice to meet you otherwise, I guess.”

“Yeah. Family stuff is complicated, and Alice is...a lot. You seem pretty okay though.” Hisoka frowned, digging in the pockets of his jacket. Pulling out three tickets, he handed them to Dice. “We’re, uh, doing a rerun of an old play. It’s Alice in the lead, but he doesn’t do much, so you don’t have to worry about him. If you guys have time, drop by.”

“Oh, I’m...not really a theatre person.”

Hisoka glanced back for a moment, shoving his hands back in his pockets. “Me too, but...sometimes people get each other better when they see each other this way. If that makes sense.”

Dice thought for a moment. “Did my brother pay for these?”

“Nah, Azuma did.”

“He did? What for?”

“...cause he knows what it’s like being the little brother that gets left behind.” Tilting his head, as if focused elsewhere, Hisoka shrugged. “I dunno about that, but. You can just give them away if you don’t want to go.”

Looking over as well, Dice caught a glimpse of Azuma, wearing a wistful smile (familiar, like a cloudy marble in the sun) and fluttering his fingers.

“...I’ll ask the other two. Thanks. Er, break a leg.”

Hisoka smiled, his one visible eye seeming to fall asleep as he stood, but still managing to lead him back to Homare and Azuma.

As the three actors thanked his friends for their time on their way out, chattering into the street, Dice turned the tickets over in his hands.

* * *

It took little convincing for Ramuda and Gentarou to join Dice at Mankai Theatre that weekend—Ramuda had heard their costume designer was a 15-year-old, and needed to find out how much of a trainwreck  _ that _ was going to be, while Gentarou had taken interest in how much the trio of actors they’d met would change once they put on their characters.

It did, however, take a long time for them to settle down in the theatre itself—between Ramuda’s constant twittering and crinkling sweets, Gentarou’s rapid note-taking, and his own inability to sit still for longer than a minute, Dice thought they were two seconds away from getting thrown out—but at last, the play began.

Seeing his older brother onstage playing a butler was a peculiar feeling.

Homare was strangely believable, even though Dice knew perfectly well the two of them were the young masters being trailed around town, and part of him was relieved that his brother went for a different approach from the actual butler they’d grown up with. Nobody needed to see a grown man hiding inside a suit of armour to scare the living daylights out of a five-year-old Dice, as played by Homare and Hisoka.

If anything, despite how unusual it was to see Homare playing an entirely serious character, every scene felt familiar to Dice—his older brother walking behind him as he ran straight into trouble, heedless of any warning, just the Arisugawas going on an adventure out in the world. On occasion, Dice would have to be led by the hand away from danger, but together, there was no one that could stop them.

Except, of course, for Homare himself. Between his poetry and aspirations sending him away from home, and Dice preemptively retreating to the quiet safety of his room rather than have fun be turned down in favour of work, it was no wonder that the two of them had begun to grow apart even before Dice ran away.

_ “Niichan? When I get older, I can come with you when you go to other countries, right?” _

_ “Of course, my boy.” _

_ “We can go wherever we want! Do whatever!” _

_ “Precisely, Daisu, that sounds wonderful! But for now, we have to get back inside. I won’t hear the end of it if you catch a cold.” _

_ “Aww.” _

_ “It’s alright, tomorrow is another day.” _

“Hey. Dice? Are you crying?” Ramuda hissed, to dirty looks from other audience members.

Wiping his face on the edge of his jacket, Dice shook his head.

“...Sagishima?”

Onstage, Hisoka stopped in his tracks on his way out, turning back to Homare who had paused in thought.

“Ah. Do forgive me, Shiki-sama. I thought perhaps I’d...said too much, just now.” Homare closed his eyes, shaking his head. “It’s not my place to assume anything about someone you considered a friend, regardless of what he did.”

“I don’t mind. I suppose it comes with you looking after me."

Homare nodded lightly, a smile just drifting across his face. “Contrary to popular belief, I  _ am _ quite fond of you.”

“Hmm.” Hisoka raised his one visible eyebrow. “You truly are a strange man.”

Laughing to himself, Hisoka left the stage. Homare trailed behind, turning ever so slightly to look into the audience before the curtain fell, and Dice, without waiting for his companions, stepped out of the theatre.

* * *

“That was pretty different from the version I saw. Sagishima seems...kinder, I guess?"

"Oh, I get that. He's treating Shiki like a kid, but not in a mean way?"

"Theatre is really something, huh. Never the same show twice."

The other audience members' discussions floated past Dice as they flowed out of the theatre.

"Where was the mystery, though? Like, you just knew Azu-neesan and the fiance were suuuuper suspicious from the second they showed up. And what kind of clue is perfume on a handkerchief anyway?" Ramuda's voice soared above the crowd, listing complaints.

"I'm quite sure that play was based on an Agatha Christie novel, so you'd have to ask her," replied Gentarou. Stifling a laugh, he added, "Although, I wonder. When they mentioned the other day that the plays are written around the actors, does that include Homare-san's implication of...not so wholesome relations between the culprit and his sister?"

"Pffft. Why'd they have us bring Dice then." Ramuda tugged on Dice's sleeve, snapping him back to the present. "C'mon, your niichan's waiting."

The three of them made their way to just outside the dressing rooms. As Gentarou began to (falsely) explain to the increasingly frazzled manager and confused director that they were government officials coming to collect certain wanted individuals, Homare called out to them.

“Oh, wonderful! I hope you all enjoyed the play...?”

His voice trailed off as he approached Fling Posse, seeing Dice looking up with the eyes of a distraught puppy.

"...aniki…"

Against his wishes, tears slid down Dice’s cheeks, sending him into a fit of hiccups and rendering Ramuda and Gentarou speechless.

"Daisu?" Homare rushed over, cautiously putting his arms around Dice as he began to sob onto his older brother's shoulder. "...it's alright. I'm here."

They stayed put for a moment, Dice blearily recalling this same sensation of Homare patting his hair and murmuring softly when he’d woken up from a bad dream and run to his room. He pulled back.

“Sorry about your jacket.”

“It isn’t the costume at least, so no harm done.”

“...and sorry about the other day.” Dice wiped his face on his sleeve, sniffling. “I didn’t mean what I said.”

When adults would say one thing, they often meant another, and it was action that young Dice learned to keep an eye out for. Unfortunately, that meant as they grew up, no matter how many times his brother would remind Dice how much he cared, it didn't ring quite as true from the other side of the planet. And soon, he thought, like their mother, Homare too would no longer have the time or patience to deal with him.

"I feel like a dumb kid," said Dice. “None of that’s your fault. You always tried to be there for me, even when mom wasn't around. It really shouldn't have taken me a whole play to figure out that even when I can't tell what the fuck you say sometimes, or if it's not exactly the right thing, what do you mean is, well…" He waved an arm.

"I love you dearly, Daisu.” Homare finished the sentence for him.

“Yeah, exactly.” Dice sighed, not unkindly, scratching his head.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ramuda and Gentarou making faces— _ Dice,  _ that’s _ what you learned from watching that? Really? _ —but it didn’t matter. This wasn't for them.

The moral of this story was for the Arisugawas, and the Arisugawas alone.

_ “Oh, Daisu, what shall I do with you?” _

_ His mother smiles down at him, the sunlight streaming through her long dark hair she held back with one hand. In her other hand is Dice's. _

_ He grins back. "It's okay, mama! I got niichan, so you don't need to worry about me." _

_ "He's absolutely right, mother." Homare laughs. He stands up to twirl in the grass as he recites a poem he’s writing on the spot. _

_ Their mother starts to laugh as well, softly squeezing Dice's hand. _

_ It's warm. _

"I am at fault here as well," Homare said, frowning. "I didn't take the time for you that I should have. My writing is important, but even more so are you—my one and only brother."

His expression softening, he continued, "Difficult as I may be, would it be too much trouble for us to return to the siblings we once were?"

“...nah.” Dice began to crack a smile, shaking his head. “Of course not. Just don’t expect me to start calling you niichan again.”

“We can work on that.”

As freeing a sword from its long-forgotten place in stone, Homare pulled Dice close, ruffling his hair.

"All's well that ends well, I suppose?"

Gentarou tilted his head in amusement as Ramuda took out his phone to snap a few photos of Dice in tears. He couldn't remember the last time he'd cried so much out of sorrow, let alone joy, but it was not an unwelcome feeling.

"Hey, good job today, you guys." A green-haired man walked up to Azuma and Hisoka at the side, looking on at Homare and Dice. "...what's going on over there."

"Family reunion." Azuma laughed through his hand. "You know how it is."

"...families are complicated…" murmured Hisoka.

"I don't want to hear that from you," the green-haired man replied bluntly, Azuma bursting into a fit of giggles.

Looping his arms around the two of them, Azuma spoke up for everyone to hear. "Since that was the last show for this run and now we have even more to celebrate, why don’t we all go out for a drink tonight? While we have Dice and his friends here too.”

“Ya~y! Going out with Azu-neesan!” “Well, just this once shouldn’t hurt.”

“Awesome, so aniki’s gonna cry on everyone! I won’t be the only one today.” Dice snorted, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. 

“Daisu!”

As the theatre members and their guests set off on their outing, the raucous laughter of the Arisugawa siblings rang out through Veludo Way in the evening light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading this mess!! i'm terribly slow and i think you can tell i changed what i wanted to do 3948674598674 times while writing this but here you go, the au where alice and dice are dumbass bros
> 
> if you've ever read my dear friend grossnoona's dice fics and wondered "hey who's this older brother that dice thinks about sometimes" THAT'S ALICE!!! IT HE!!!! and if u haven't read their fics please do
> 
> i'm occasionally on @esnoyuuutsu on twitter if you wanna yell at me (please don't i'm fragile) !!


	2. epilogue: risky game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kinda misc arisubros, set during the time when winter had a play that was casino-themed and alice was a >:D gambler and i should've finished this then but Well

Ramuda unwraps a lollipop, in thought.

“For casino theme, these outfits sure aren’t thirsty enough.” Gesturing to the posters on the walls, he turns to his fellow division members. “I’m right, right?”

The three of them are in Mankai Theatre for another play, and not-so-politely participating in traditional mid-play discussion as they wait for the intermission to end.

Dice downs his drink. “Ramuda, if I had to see my bro trying to be sexy on that stage, I’d walk out and throw myself into the ocean.”

"No, don't drown yourself, you're so s—" "Oh my god."

“Now, now, both of you.” Flipping through his notes, Gentarou wags a finger. “Homare-san as a gambler aside, I must say that Hisoka-kun’s character seems a lot like you, Dice.”

The character in question was the protagonist, who started the play waking up with no memory of the previous night and getting threatened by a debt collector—an experience Dice admittedly had more than once.

He raises an eyebrow. “Alright, if I’m that guy, who’s my fiancee who gets me drunk and shoves all her debt at me.”

As one, Gentarou and Ramuda lean towards Dice across the table—Ramuda lacing his fingers together with a sugary smile and Gentarou lowering his notebook and his eyelids.

“...I don’t have a million dollars, guys.”

“Aww, it’s just a joke! We’re paid in your company.” Ramuda licks the lollipop, adding, “Also we know your family’s rich now.”

The announcement for the end of intermission rings out as Gentarou tucks away his notebook. "I think the difference here may be that you won't be rid of us quite as easily."

"You're stuck with us, Dice!"

* * *

"I do hope there wasn't anything objectionable about my performance?" Homare clasps his hands together, conspicuously waiting for praise.

Trying to play it cool, Dice shrugs. "You were alright, I guess—"

"Oh, you should've seen Dice's face!" Ramuda sings. "He'd light up every time you were onstage. The best was in that poker game you were in. Here, wanna see?"

Nearby, Izumi, the director, looks up sharply. "Ramuda-kun, you shouldn't take photos during the play."

"I wasn't taking pictures of the acting, and my flash was off?" He bats his eyelashes, the picture of innocence. "Alice, I'll send them to you later!"

Homare blinks. "Now, Miss Director, it's fine just this once, is it not? Provided Ramuda-kun wasn't bothering anyone."

"Homare-san…" "Aniki…"

"On that note, though, do you three want to stop by our dorm?" Azuma has a devious spiderweb of a smile. "We still have all of the casino things back there, and I think it'd be fun for you to join Winter for a few games."

The unspoken implication being, of course, that he wanted to see the Arisugawas play against each other—which Dice doesn't mind, because if there’s one thing he knew over the years, it was that his brother is  _ terrible _ with cards.

* * *

"Well, I believe that means I win?"

Dice looks down at the table, then up at Homare, then back at the table.

"Which one of you taught him to not suck at this!" He yells, collapsing into laughter on a sofa in the dorm's living room.

"Oi, what's all the noise."

A blond man with glasses ducks into the room, scowling.

"Sorry, Sakyo-kun!" "It's Alice's fault." Azuma and Hisoka respond in unison from their spot on the sofa.

"My apologies, Sakyo-san, it's...er...family bonding." Homare tilts his head with a smile, Dice giving a half-wave with a handful of cards.

"...good for you, Arisugawa. But it's getting late and some of the kids have school, so keep it down."

As the man steps out again, Ramuda pipes up, “Wait, is your dorm managed by the yakuza?”

“It’s...complicated,” says Izumi.

“So that’s a yes.” Gentarou reaches over to the coffee table to take a sip of his drink. “Provided we don’t make any more trouble, this night should go smoothly, correct?”

* * *

Cut to: the Arisugawa siblings, in tears after one too many drinks.

“The younger Arisugawa does  _ that _ too, huh.”

Gentarou shakes his head. “We’ve...never seen him do this.” He turns to Ramuda gleefully recording everything on his phone. “Blackmail material?”

“No, I just have a folder of the two of you doing cute dumb shit! Also blackmail material.” Ramuda blows Gentarou a kiss as he ends the video.

“Daisu….I’m just….so happy to see you again….” “Me too, aniki...I did miss you...I’m sorry…” Dice and Homare sob loudly on each other, to the amusement and consternation of everyone else in the living room.

Softly at the end of the sofa, Azuma slips his hand in Hisoka’s as he looks on at the siblings.

“Families are nice, aren’t they.”

“Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you're reading this fic from mostly hypmic side, this is how a3 stories read. trust me. i would not lie to you.
> 
> also i wanted to make a joke about sakyo and samatoki running into each other but couldn't figure out how to word it so u just get [ramuda voice] haha yall fuckin yakuza


End file.
